Memories
by Goldberry09
Summary: 3rd and final chapter is up! FFVI: One character has bitter thoughts about the past.
1. Punishment

"Shut up!!"

The blow was swift and brutal, dislocating her already bloodied jaw. Blood ran down her nose and mouth and dripped on the hard, cold stone floor. Hands tied cruelly tight behind her back, she had no way of defending herself. Her tormentors and the room itself swam in and out of focus, as she slid down the wall at her back and collapsed in a heap at the man's feet, her face in a pool of her own blood. Dimly, she heard the soldier say something in a smug, cruel voice, but she didn't hear him. He then spoke to the other man in the room, and she heard a door open and shut. Next, someone cut the ropes on her wrists, leaving her fingers bound to each other. She was pulled roughly into a semi-erect posture, her arms stretched wide above her head and fastened to manacles attached to the dungeon wall. Then she seemed to be left in peace for a while. Peace? This was not peace. She doubted whether she would ever live to experience peace again. Not that she had long to live anyway, she thought grimly. She had been so close to unconsciousness when she was on the floor, but being pulled upright again had wrenched that blissful state from her grasp. Soon, too soon, the pain started to subside, or perhaps she was simply becoming accustomed to it; she was no stranger to pain. Now she longed for a distraction, wished that her tormentor wold return to beat her again, anything rather than be left alone with her thoughts, her memories. She despised herself; she hated herself. Her one consolation was that soon she would no longer have to live with herself. She was to die at dawn tomorrow. She had no idea what time it was, but dawn could not come too soon to suit her. Then, she could finally forget, forget her past, forget the fact that she was lower than dirt, forget that she was nothing but an accursed traitor. She remembered what he had given her. He had given her everything, her home, her power. He had made her who she was. He had _loved _her, cared for her like his own daughter. And she had spit in his face; she had become everything she had ever despised and fought against. Such were her thoughts, but somewhere deep inside her heart, she knew that she had done the right thing. But she could not simply forget everything that she had been told her whole life long. Deep down, she knew that she had been told nothing but lies from the cradle, that in truth she had been brainwashed. But she could not make herself feel this. And even though it told her she had been right to betray her adopted father, she received little consolation from her heart. When she looked into her heart, she saw, not a traitor, but a plunderer, a witch, a murderer. Her heart despised, not what she had become, but who she used to be. Either way she looked at herself, she hated what she saw. There was no relief, and she simply could not stop her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried. She threw her head back against the hard wall, causing her vision to swim again. She did it again. And again. And again. She was trying to knock herself senseless. But somehow the comforting blackness refused to come. Exhausted, she gave up, instead trying to concentrate on the throbbing in the back of her head and the sticky wetness seeping through her golden hair. Her masochism at first seemed to be working. She was still thinking, but it was becoming less distinct, less logical, dream-like. Soon, she was not thinking, she was seeing. A town, _that _town, appeared before her eyes, as clear as when she saw it for the first time. Again she was squinting through binoculars. Again she looked at her written orders:

_General,_

_Our intel shows that Maranda has indeed been harboring Returners. Take the town, using any means you deem necessary to ensure that its people never again betray Us. The rebels are to be brought back to the capital for questioning. Execute the town leaders._

"General Chere." She looked up from the telegraph. It was Colonel Garrett, her second-in-command.

"Yes, Colonel. What is it?"

"What are our orders?"

She handed him the note.

A smile slid across his face as he finished his perusal. "And what 'means' do you intend to use? What do you plan to do to the town?" asked Garrett.

She considered a moment, gazing into the distance at the beautiful, quiet little village.

"Burn it."

The town was a peaceful one, with a small military. Therefore, the Emperor had only given her a small regiment, about 50 men. It was more than necessary, she thought. Nothing could withstand the Empire's new magitek armor. The suits were huge: 15 feet tall, weighing two tons. A single blast from one of their guns was strong enough to blow a hole through a foot-thick wall of solid rock. Celes Chere, however, never used them. Their one disadvantage was speed; their top speed was two miles an hour, and it took 30 seconds just to make an 180 degree-turn in one. Celes liked to be free. Besides, she didn't need them.

She calmly raised her hand palm-outwards in the direction of the two guards who used their spears to block the front gate of the town. She closed her eyes, moving first her fingers and then her wrist until the back of her hand faced out and she seemed to be holding something loosely. For a brief moment, a light shone under her fingers and then her whole body seemed to glow with a piercing blue aura. A sudden gust of wind swirled about her, flapping her pure white cape behind her and causing her long hair to stand almost on end. She opened her eyes, and the glow left her form. Immediately, the light flew from her hand, blasting the two guards off their feet. The moment the light hit them, a blue-white color spread quickly, engulfing their entire bodies, looks of horror frozen unto their faces. When they hit the ground, they shattered like glass into a thousand pieces. They had been turned into blocks of ice. Celes glanced up and sideways to Colonel Garrett, whose lips were again twisted upwards. He nodded and immediately pulled a lever on his armor, causing the monstrosity to raise a gun the size of a rottweiler. The weapon powered up for a moment, seeming to pull the energy from everything nearby into itself before shooting a beam at the gates, which were blown off their hinges. A shock wave of the released energy was emitted in every direction, knocking Celes slightly off-balance. She led her men forward, her boots crunching on the shards of ice. She barely noticed the fact that some of the larger pieces were still recognizable as human hands, human faces.

The town was caught completely unprepared for the attack. Celes had waited until cover of darkness to move her troops from the hill upon which she had spied out the city. It was still two hours before dawn. Everyone was awakened by the explosion of the gate, but before anyone was even out to see what had caused the noise, Celes' men were methodically going to every house, knocking down the doors, rounding up those few people, men and women, whom they found hiding in a couple of the basements. All soldiers and any who attempted to hinder them were immediately shot down. While her men were thus occupied, Celes went to the governor's mansion. She found the governor, surrounded by a dozen or so police officers with drawn swords. She drew her own weapon.

"Come with me, Governor Reathe," she said simply.

The governor was young, barely in his thirties. What Celes mainly noticed about him were his eyes. They were a clear, almost emerald green, and they were devoid of the terror she expected. This angered her. He did not move.

"Why?" he asked. "Why is Emperor Gestahl attacking Maranda? We are at peace with the Empire!"

"You fool!" She spat. "Did you honestly believe your treachery would escape the all-seeing eyes of the Empire? We know you have been harboring Returners!"

His eyes widened, but to his credit he did not try to deny it.

She continued. "I repeat, come with me freely, or watch your guards die."

One of the officers spoke up. "We will never allow you to take our Governor, you imperial witch!"

Celes shrugged. She had been planning to kill them anyway, along with all the military personnel in the town. This way, they would simply die in battle instead of by execution. It mattered not. She raised her blade and attacked. Though outnumbered 12 to one, Celes did not doubt that she would be the victor. She was too quick and agile for them to surround her, none of them could equal her skill with the sword, and her magic tipped the scale in her favor. Within minutes, Governor Reathe found himself surrounded by a wall of bodies. He looked at them with profound sorrow and pity before raising his eyes to look into the icy-blue eyes of this woman, who was barely even breathing heavily. He came quietly.

Too quietly. For Celes was able to hear the gentle crying, emanating from a closet behind her.

"Don't move," she commanded, and then went to the closet and opened it. Shoving aside some coats, she found a young woman, scarcely older than herself, crouched against the back wall. She held an infant in her arms, somehow sleeping peacefully, and the cause of the noise that had alerted Celes to their presence, a boy of two or three years, was sobbing into her nightgown. The woman was trembling.

"Mrs. Reathe, I presume," said Celes. "Please, join us."

She motioned with her sword for the woman to join her husband. When she reached his side, he wrapped his arms around her and the infant for a moment, and then reached down and swung the boy into his arms. "Don't cry, Michael. Everything will be alright."

Celes emerged from the mansion, the Reathes walking in front with her sword at the Governor's back. Her troops had gathered the group of Returners, seven men and two women in front of a wooden platform in the center of the town, in front of the Governor's mansion, apparently used for making speeches. Standing on top of the platform were three other town leaders: the Governor's assistant, the chief of police, and the head of the town council.

"Governor, up there." She motioned for him to join the group on the platform. "You. Stay here," She commanded to the woman. She left Reathe in the care of five of her soldiers. Colonel Garrett was waiting for her there.

"General. We've searched every building; these are the only rebel scum we could find. We found some foreigners in the inn. They are from Doma; they claim to be here in order to establish an alliance between Maranda and Doma. What should we do with them?"

Celes hesitated for a brief moment.

"Do not harm them. We are not at war with Doma, and the Emperor has given us no orders to begin one. I am sure that the news they will bring back to their king will make him hesitant to challenge the Empire."

She mounted the steps of the wooden platform. By now, it seemed every inhabitant of the village was gathered in the square, awaiting their unknown fate.

"Speech time," she thought.

She raised her voice to a shout. "People of Maranda. For a year now has the mighty Empire of Gestahl, the Beneficent, been at peace with you. He has protected you, brought order and peace, not only to your town, but to this entire continent. And this, THIS is how you repay him!" She pointed an accusing finger down at the group of rebels. "By aiding and abetting this group of known terrorists and revolutionaries, these vermin who would give their lives to end Gestahl's reign of order, and plunge the land into chaos. As much as it grieves him to do it, the Emperor must punish such undeserved treachery, for the sake of the thousands of innocents who depend on him for his protection. The perpetrators of treason must die, and today, you will witness their execution. Remember, you have brought this fate upon yourselves."

Celes drew a knife from her belt, and nodded at two soldiers who held the chief of police. They brought him in front of her and forced him to his knees at her feet. She did not waste anymore words; she saw little point in offering last requests. All they really accomplished was to draw out the suffering of the one to be executed. She pulled his head back by the hair, and sliced the knife across the tender skin. A gurgle rose in his throat, screams and weeping from the crowd. She released him and he collapsed to the floor of the platform. One by one, she did the same to the head of the town council and the governor's assistant. When the governor was walked to her, he did not struggle. She again looked in his eyes, and still the terror she looked for was absent. He had a defiant look in his eyes. Before he knelt, he spoke. He addressed her, but he spoke so that the whole village could hear.

"Soon the people of the world will not stand for the Empire's 'benevolence' any longer. You speak of peace and order. Your Emperor will not have peace until he is the sole wielder of power, the world is bathed in the blood of his enemies, and whoever is left alive are brought to their knees before him. Your order is nothing more than his domineering will imposed over innocent people. And these revolutionaries are the only ones with the sense to see the Empire for what it is and the courage to fight for the freedom of the world. You may kill me and my compatriots, but soon your day will come. The Empire shall fall."

Silence greeted his words; fear for their beloved leader quelling the cheers that rose in the throats of the citizens of Maranda. Women stilled their weeping and held their breath. Celes hesitated. His words had struck fear into her fearless heart. She wondered if he spoke the truth. She was afraid not so much for his prediction of the fall of her Empire, but for what he said the Empire stood for. The Empire seemed to her not so glorious as she had always believed it to be. She wondered in her heart when the war would finally be over. How long had she been fighting, obeying every wish of her adopted father? She could not remember a time before she was a soldier. Violence was all she knew. For the first time, she doubted. What was she fighting for? She shook herself. The moment had passed, and she was again General Chere, pride of the empire, and favorite of Emperor Gestahl. She again saw, not a prophet, but an enemy, a traitor. And there was nothing, not even the Returners, that she hated more than traitors. She herself forced him to his knees, and pressed the dagger to his throat.

"No!" screamed a voice from the crowd. Celes glanced down, and her eyes met those of the governor's wife, still clutching the babe in her arms. The woman knelt to the ground, silently begging for the life of her beloved. Celes gazed into her soft eyes, filled with tears, eyes torn with pain, but still pleading, searching for any sign of pity from the cold General. Celes looked into those eyes and it was as if she saw glimpses in them of the brief years of happiness the woman had had with her husband. The tenderness of their first kiss. The shared joy and pride at the birth of their first-born son. The dreams of a long life together in a peaceful world. Dreams shattered forever as Celes closed her eyes and drew the blade across his throat.


	2. The Fire

CHAPTER 2

THE FIRE

"She's an Imperial spy!"

Celes remembered him, too. The knight drew his sword and advanced toward her. She debated with herself on whether or not she should draw her own weapon. She doubted that this man, though shaking with rage, would actually harm an unarmed woman. She had heard enough about the Domans to know that they valued honor above almost all else. Celes guessed that it would not help her already precarious position among her former enemies to take up arms against them, even in self-defense. It went against 13 years of military training to remain still and vulnerable as a dangerous opponent approached, but she made no move to defend herself. Someone else did, though. With his usual speed and agility, Locke placed himself between Celes and the Doman.

"Wait!" said Locke. "Celes has left the Empire; she's working with US now."

"But…" said the knight, but Locke cut him off.

"I promised I'd protect her. I will NOT go back on my word!" He laid a hand on the dirk hanging from his belt.

The knight glared at him, but lowered his own weapon somewhat.

A few more words were said, but Celes wasn't listening. She could still hear the knight's words ringing in her head. "She torched Maranda!" It was true. During the days since Locke had found Celes in the Imperial dungeon, she usually managed to push memories of that night, that horrible night, from her mind. But she had hardly slept since then without being haunted by dreams of Maranda. Every night she felt again the cold steel in her hand as she slit the throat of governor Reathe, saw the anguish in the eyes of his wife, heard the screams of terror as the people ran to avoid the deadly flames, tasted the choking smoke filling her mouth as she ran through the house.

Celes opened her eyes. Reathe lay at her feet. She gazed at his crumpled form for several seconds, listening to the screams of his wife, before striding across the wooden planks. She descended the stairs and approached Colonel Garrett. A shiver ran up her spine as she saw the twisted smile on his face, but she ignored it.

"Have the Returners been secured for the journey back to Vector?" she asked.

"They have, General. The men are awaiting your next command."

Celes did not answer. She looked at the foot of the platform, where the governor's wife had fainted. An elderly woman with a shawl draped over her nightgown was holding her baby, as friends and relatives tried to revive her and quiet the shrieking boy at her side. She looked at the rest of the crowd, most in their sleeping garments, none wielding weapons or carrying any possessions. The few soldiers that there were in the town had already been dispatched by Celes' men. She raised her head and looked all about the square, for the first time taking in the town itself. It was so unlike Vector. Vector was more of a fort than a city. It was strong, impregnable, cold. Most buildings were constructed of metal. Smoke churned from the factory at the foot of the Imperial castle, hiding the sun, as foul-smelling liquid poured into the stream that ran south through the middle of the city. Children never played in the streets. In fact, most normal citizens avoided the streets as much as they could. Soldiers patrolled them constantly, and troops were ever marching to and from the castle on missions for the Emperor. There were no trees outside of the Emperor's personal courtyard, and what grass there was lay trampled and blackened by the iron-shod boots of countless soldiers. The whole dreary establishment was encircled by a 30-foot wall, topped with razor-sharp spikes, and four black towers, one in each corner of the city, keeping silent watch over the lands about as well as over the down-cast heads of the citizens within.

Maranda was different. Maranda was green. Everywhere Celes looked she saw trees, trees by every house, a circle of trees surrounding the center of town where she now stood. The grass which seemed to be just about everywhere was fresh and green, nowhere trampled. Every house seemed to have its own garden of bright daffodils or tulips. The buildings seemed tiny to Celes' imperial eyes. The governor's "mansion" was the only two-story building in sight. All the others were little cottages. She saw no steel or iron. Most of the houses were made of stone, some of wood. The town was pitifully vulnerable, with not so much as a picket fence enclosing it. Maranda was bordered by Avalyn Forest to the west, and could only be reached from the south by crossing the Kistra River, but on the north side of town there was no greater obstacle than some small ditches. The only reason Celes had brought her men to the east-side gate which blocked the sole road leading into Maranda was she knew there would be soldiers there, and she was commanded to destroy every member of the military and police force. Maranda was weak and impractical, with a wholly un-strategic layout. And Celes thought she had never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

"Chere!" said Garrett. Celes grudgingly returned her eyes to her second-in-command and frowned. Although he was older than Celes by some 12 years, he had thus far treated her with the deference due to a superior officer. Inside, she was worried by this sign of disrespect, but her face betrayed no such emotion. She narrowed her eyes and said coldly,

"Forgive me, _Colonel, _if I do not act swiftly enough to please you. But I was evaluating the condition of the town and the state of its inhabitants in order to know how best to proceed."

"As you wish, General," Garrett replied, but he sounded patronizing and made no effort to conceal his impatience.

What she wanted more than anything was to simply lead her troops out of Maranda. They had dealt out enough of the Emperor's punishment to suit her. This sneaking into a civilian center by night, unannounced, was not what she was used to. She much preferred open battle. Celes had been in many battles; that was her element, she even felt a kind of thrill as her instincts and her magic took over. She did not rejoice in killing, but it no longer bothered her. Or, rather killing had not bothered her for a while, until tonight. She was used to killing in the heat of battle; she had never before executed a man. Her eyes kept flickering between the bodies on the platform and the woman she had widowed, lying on the grass as still as her husband. Celes could not seem to get the image of the woman's outstretched hand and pleading eyes out of her head. She turned to the mass of villagers gathered in the square. They seemed so…innocent. There were so many children, most of them weeping loudly and hiding their faces in the skirts of their mothers and grandmothers. Celes had never seen many children in Vector; the ones she did see were already training to be soldiers. Forced enlistment of most boys began at age 5, the age Celes herself had begun training.

She couldn't bear to look at the children for long, so she turned her gaze upon the village women. Now that she had descended from the platform, many of them had ascended the steps. Mrs Reathe remained unconscious on the ground, but other wives were cradling their dead husbands in their arms, tearing their hair, or else looking about with dazed, disbelieving expressions. There was nothing remarkable about the women: wrinkled old crones and plump, rosy-cheeked mothers for the most part, with a few pretty girls mixed in. Nevertheless, they held a strange fascination for Celes. There was no memory of a mother in her life. She had been raised by a scientist, who treated her gently, but most of her older years had been spent in the company of rough men. She had never had a woman she could turn to for advice or companionship. She had never missed it before. When she chanced to see other women in Vector, she had felt nothing but contempt for them; they seemed to her weak, helpless, and frightened, most of them scurrying for the safety of their homes whenever they saw a group of soldiers approaching, like rabbits at the scent of a wolf. Celes felt differently about these Marandan women. True, some of them looked with fear on Celes and her soldiers. Most, however, simply seemed overcome with grief. Mothers kept themselves always between the deadly magitek armor and their children. Celes remembered again the governor's wife and her pleading eyes. She had silently begged for the life of her husband, and Celes knew the woman would gladly have offered her life in exchange for his if she could. The women seemed innocent, like their children. They looked with horror on the bodies of the slain, as if they had never seen death before. Celes was sure none of them had ever taken a life, and she was reminded of the blood on her own hands. They were all wearing dressing gowns—light, frilly things—and many had bonnets on their heads. Celes looked at her own clothing. Her head was bare and her long hair hung free down her back. She was clad in a plain forest-green jerkin, with matching breeches that extended almost to the top of her brown leather knee-high boots. A dagger was hidden in each boot, and at her waist hung an ornate black scabbard with silver runes spiraling down it. Her clothes were snug, but not tight, allowing for full range of motion, while simultaneously limiting the possibility of getting caught on something in the midst of battle. Capes were a sign of authority in the Empire, but she always removed hers before fighting. Celes was reminded of Leo, the only general in the Empire who did not wear a cape. He was very down-to-earth, preferring to allow his soldiers to identify with him, rather than keep them at a distance. Besides, Leo needed no external symbol of authority. He had the undying loyalty of every man under his command. Almost every soldier in the empire would gladly follow him anywhere and obey his orders without question. Celes admired him for this, as well as for his high sense of honor and his humanity. He never killed unless it was absolutely necessary. Celes only wished she could be such an effective leader.

She turned to the village men. They hid their own tears and tried to comfort the women, but Celes noticed with dismay that a few did not seem to be content with such peaceful activity. Some were trying to approach Celes, but were being held back by her soldiers. A few of the more reckless were openly cursing her and the Empire, though this was met with swift and painful reprisal at the hands of her soldiers. More reasonable men were trying to question the soldiers or declare their ignorance of the Returner's presence in Maranda. Most disconcerting to Celes' eyes was the sight of a group of about a dozen men that was just forming in a tight circle, apparently holding some sort of council. Celes guessed they were debating on how they might retake the village by force.

_The fools will get themselves and their families killed, if I don't act quickly,_ Celes said to herself. She raised her voice to her men. "Our orders have been carried out. It is time for us to return to Vector."

"Ahem! May I have a word, _General?_" asked Garrett. He took her by the elbow and led her a little away from the other soldiers. His voice lowered to a growling whisper. "Do you mean to say we are not going to take any further action against these traitors?"

"Yes, Colonel," replied Celes, apprehension gathering in her stomach like acid, but she refused to allow it to enter into her face or voice. "That is exactly what I mean. These villagers are defenseless. The executions I have carried out today have stricken them with fear of the Empire. They will never again dare to oppose us."

"With all due respect, Miss Chere," Celes bristled, but he seemed not to notice. "What about that knot of men gathered over there? If they are not planning a rebellion at this very minute, you can call me a Returner. If we leave now, what is to prevent them sneaking behind and stabbing us in the back before we are a league away? Or even attempting to reach Vector before us and assassinate the Emperor? Need I remind you, our orders are to use _any means necessary_ to ensure these villagers never again betray the Empire. Surely the great General Celes does not intend to use _no means._ What of your earlier plan?"

Celes cursed herself for revealing her orders to this blood-thirsty insubordinate. He was almost as bad as Kefka. Now she didn't know what to do. If she continued with her present, peaceful course of action, she could never gain the loyalty of Garrett, and she knew most of her men would follow him, having served under Garrett before. This was Celes' first mission as general, and it had to be a success. She could not disappoint Gestahl, not after he had placed so much faith in her. She knew that he had raised her to the level of general, despite opposition by most of his officers, officers who, like their soldiers, feared Celes for her strange powers and cold demeanor, and besides did not relish the idea of taking orders from a woman, let alone a girl of eighteen. But Celes had always been Emperor Gestahl's favorite, and he would hear no criticism of her, not even from General Kefka, who was his chief advisor and second-in-command. Gestahl doted on Celes like a proud father, and Celes loved him. She could not bear for Garrett to bring him the news that she had disobeyed her Emperor's orders. Even if she could convince Gestahl that she acted rightly and accomplished the goal of his orders, she knew he would be bitterly disappointed that she had lost the respect of the soldiers he had placed under her command. She saw no other choice.

"That was before I saw how incredibly weak Maranda truly is," she said to her Colonel. "But you are right about that group of men. While I doubt they could possibly be any real threat to us, they must not be allowed to think they can act against the Empire again."

Celes hesitated again for a brief moment, her eyes moving once again across the defenseless villagers, lingering on the crying children. Her heart was moved for them, but generals do not obey their hearts. She had to be strong. She had to obey her Emperor. Besides, Garrett may have been right. Those men did look suspicious.

"You may burn the village, but I do not want any more bloodshed, is that clear?"

The Colonel smirked at her condescendingly, as if he still considered her weak, but he said only, "Yes, General, perfectly clear."

Garrett strode back to the soldiers, informing them quietly of the change of plan. Celes' order was soon put into effect. As half the soldiers moved the Returners back to the remains of the gate, the rest spread out and began the destruction of the village. One blast from the cannon of the magitek armor was enough to set a house ablaze. Soon the raging flames lit the pre-dawn sky, and the air became stifling and smoky. Celes lingered in the town square, watching the hapless villagers run in every direction, listening to their screams. Soon, she was alone and could barely hear the cries of the villagers for the roaring and crackling of the flames around her. Now she could bear the heat no longer and houses were beginning to crumble around her. She fled for the east road that would take her out of this dying town that had once been so beautiful. Now Celes wished with all her heart that she had never seen it. She cursed the day that her Emperor had told her she was to be his next general. As she ran blindly, her eyes watery from smoke, and her hand over her mouth and nose, she suddenly stumbled into someone, a woman, she realized as she blinked away her tears. The woman did not notice her. She was pleading with one of Celes' soldiers who had apparently just set fire to her house, and was blocking her entry into it.

"It's too late," he said to her. "You can't go in now. Are you blind? Look at your house; you would be burned alive if you set foot in there. Save your own neck while you still can, Lady."

"But my daughter is in there! Please, let me go. I have to save her!" She made a desperate dive for the door under the arm of the magitek armor, but fell back as Celes grabbed the back of her gown.

"Wait!" Celes commanded. She began again to summon the power within herself, pouring her very energy into the spell. The icy blast shot from her hand, but when it hit the house, it only diminished a small portion of the growing blaze, which was quickly fed again by the flames within. Celes looked with dismay at the house which was becoming an inferno, but she again held back the woman who tried to enter the fire. Celes grabbed her by the shoulders and forced the woman to face her.

"Where is your daughter?" she asked.

The woman was too hysterical to answer, and only struggled to break free from Celes. Celes held on and shook her roughly.

"Do you want her to die?! Tell me NOW, where is your daughter?"

The woman stuttered a few inherent words before Celes heard her say, "The b-basement. You go through the d-door in the kitchen. She's in a closet down there."

That was all Celes needed. She released her and, slipping by the magitek armor of her soldier, entered the inferno. At first, she could see nothing; the fire surrounded her and blinded her with its brightness. Flames licked at her flesh and scorched her, but she paid no heed. She charged through the fire, bumping into furniture, until she hit into a wall. She felt around until her eyes finally adjusted to the light and she spied an entryway to her left. She leapt for it and found herself in blackness. The flames were not yet as large here—the heat was not so unbearable—but the smoke prevented her from seeing whether this was the kitchen or not. She inhaled a lungful of the acrid smoke before she dropped, choking, to her hands and knees. Squinting through her swimming eyes, she saw a fireplace nearby with a kettle hung over it. She saw no door. Crawling around to face the wall she had entered through, she saw shelves lining the wall. In the corner, behind an oak table, she saw a door. She made her way as fast as she could under the table, and reached up to grab the door handle. She gasped as it burned her hand, and quickly cast another ice spell at the handle. It sizzled and steamed, but was cool enough to turn. She threw the door open and was immediately hit with a blast of much cooler air. Celes dove in and pulled the door shut behind her. It was pitch black as she stumbled downstairs, but she could finally breathe. The basement was underground and the fire had not yet caught down there. She reached the bottom of the stairs, but there were still no windows or other sources of light. She stopped and listened. Apart from the roaring emanating from upstairs, she thought she could make out a very faint whimpering sound coming from her right. She approached the sound and tried to clear her burning throat.

"Hello?" her throat felt like it was made of sandpaper, and it was hard to raise her voice loud enough to be heard. She coughed and said, "Can you hear me? Please, come out; I'm here to take you back to your mother."

The whimpering stopped, but there was no reply. Celes' outstretched hands felt a wall and searched for a handle. She tried again. "Please, answer me! We don't have much time; your house is on fire."

Finally, she heard a small voice say, "I'm here."

Celes doubled back to her left, following the voice. Finding a handle, she opened the door and squinted inside. Still she could see nothing, but she could hear the frightened breathing of the girl. Feeling inside, her hands found a very small girl crouched within. Judging by her size, she could only have been three or four years old. _That's just as well,_ thought Celes, _she'll be easy to carry. _The child drew back from her touch.

"It's okay," said Celes, trying to speak in a gentle voice, but it came out as probably a rather frightening, raspy whisper. "Everything's gonna be okay. Come on; mommy's waiting, and she wants me to bring you to her."

"Mommy?" the girl asked, hope rising in her quivering voice.

"Yes. Can I carry you out?"

"Mmm… I guess so."

Celes gently searched until she found the girl's middle and scooped her up. Holding her close, Celes turned and ran back up the stairs. At the top she paused and pulled her cape around in front of herself. Casting another spell, she froze the cape stiff.

"It's gonna be really hot out there. This will help keep you cool for a little while," she said, wrapping the cape around the girl and covering her own nose and mouth with it. She kicked the door open, which, already weakened from the fire burning on the other side, burst into splinters and ashes. It was like walking into a smithy's forge. Celes almost reeled back into the wonderful, cool basement, but she knew the fire would eventually make its way down there and they would be trapped. She crouched as low as she could to avoid the deadly smoke and yet still be able to move quickly. As soon as she jumped into the blazing kitchen, she heard a crashing sound, and instinctively made a dive for the table, which though burning, was still standing on its legs. All around her she saw burning beams crash unto the floor. The heat became even more unbearable, but the smoke cleared a little. She could now see around the room. Every bit of the walls and shelves was burning away. She could see the entry way that led to the front of the house and freedom, but the floor all about was blocked with burning timber. By now, her cape had thawed and was a sweltering, wet cover, but she kept it up to protect herself and the child from the smoke, which was still thick. Celes used another spell to lessen the flames in front of the entryway enough to leap over them. She was in the front room now and could see the light of the rising sun through the open door. Just as she was about to escape, the floor beneath her feet gave way and she fell. The child was thrown from her arms, but Celes managed to catch herself from falling all the way down into the basement. She saw the child stand up and look back at Celes helplessly.

"Go on! Get out of here!" Celes yelled.

The girl fled out the door. Celes breathed a sigh of relief, but she could feel her strength giving way. She couldn't breathe anymore, and her vision swam. Then all was blackness.

Celes opened her eyes. A man had just burst into the room.

"The Empire's here! They're heading toward the Esper!"

The Returner's collectively jumped to their feet with exclamations of dismay. A couple of them swore loudly. They all grabbed their weapons and hurried out the door to meet the oncoming threat. They began marching in single file up the side of a mountain. A couple members of the group approached Celes and tried to engage her in brief conversation, including the Doman knight, who wanted to make clear that he didn't trust her one bit. Still, Celes thoughts remained on that fateful day. She remembered waking up an hour past dawn a safe distance from the flaming ruins that had been the town of Maranda. The same soldier who had set fire to the house, had seen the little girl come out alone. Braving the scorching flames within, he had leapt out of his metal suit and entered the house in search of his commander. He had caught her just as she was losing consciousness and beginning to fall to her inevitable death. He had managed to pull her to safety before the house crumbled completely. Colonel Garrett was insufferably smug and condescending toward Celes during the entire trip back to Vector; the soldier had apparently related how he had had to save Celes after she had risked her life to save some traitor's brat, a story that Garrett seemed to find incredibly amusing. Celes seriously considered going ahead of the slow-moving magitek armors just to get away from him, but she couldn't enter Vector without her troops or her prisoners. She endured his half-disguised jeers, and spent most of the two-day trip watching the Returners plod ahead of her with downcast heads while she considered their fate. She knew the Empire's "questioning methods." Depending on their level of endurance, they were soon to be subjected to days of torture before their inevitable execution. Celes only hoped she would not have to be their questioner. She had spilled much blood in service of the Empire, but she had not so far been made to torture any prisoner. She remembered the words Governor Reathe spoke before his death, and she wondered again when this war was going to end.


	3. The Betrayal

"Well done, General Celes!"

As Locke and the others spun around at the unexpected voice behind them, Celes remained rooted to the spot, shuddering at the laugh that proceeded this statement. The others had heard it before, but none so often as Celes. She hated that voice, that laugh, the face to which they belonged more than anything in the world, even more than she used to hate herself, back in that cell, before she had met someone who understood her. She was finally starting to forgive herself, as he forgave her. She was finally starting to have hope again, hope that there was something she could do to make this world a better place, hope that maybe, somehow, she could atone for what she had done, for the lives she had taken. But the voice that spoke knew nothing of hope or forgiveness. It was filled with malice and hatred. Everywhere it went, it spread fear and despair. Even as it laughed, as it did constantly, the voice shriveled the heart, made one feel that there would never again be anything in the world worth laughing about. Celes slowly turned to face the man she had once fought alongside.

"Kefka!!" Locke's voice was filled with loathing and disgust as he drew his dirk.

Kefka ignored him and addressed Celes again.

"I must say, Celes, I had my doubts about you for a while. But I suppose Gestahl was right. I must admit, even I could not have done a better job of luring the chief Returners into our very capital as you have done. Ah, yes! You even brought our little spoiled traitor prince and the sole survivor of the stubborn Doman knights; well done indeed!"

Edgar, King of Figaro, and Cyan, captain of the Doman army, now wiped out by Kefka, along with Cyan's wife and son, lowered their weapons and turned to Celes with horror in their eyes. Kefka went on.

"Best of all, you have shown us how the true power is gotten out of these wretched creatures! Of course, how could I have not seen it before now? One can only fully wield their power when one has utterly destroyed them; once one holds their corpses in the palm of his hand, then one has complete use of their abilities. How wonderful!"

Locke turned to Celes. "Celes! It's not true! You..."

Kefka laughed again. "She has tricked you all! Celes, that's so...you!"

Kefka's black eyes glittered with delight. Then instantly, with no transition from pure glee to complete and ruthless seriousness, he issued a command to his fellow general.

"The game's over! Now, bring me those magicite shards!"

Celes clutched the many magicite remains of the espers, the espers who had freely given their lives, so that their powers might be used by those they thought would fight the Empire that had been slowly torturing them, draining them of their life and powers, for years. She bowed her head, as she walked to Kefka. She had known this was coming. Ever since that night in her cell, she had known this day was inevitable. It was with sorrow that she looked into Locke's eyes one last time and saw the pain and confusion there. She walked past him to stand in front of Kefka once again. She was a traitor now. She would always be a traitor.

***

It was as a triumphant general that Celes returned to Vector, leading her men and her prisoners. But she felt only shame and humiliation. She could not look Garrett in the eye. She didn't know how she would be able to look her Emperor in the eye when she gave him her report. She longed only for the sanctuary of her private quarters. As it turned out, the Emperor had a special banquet planned in celebration of the completion of her first mission as general. Apparently, there had been a look out for their return, for as soon as the gates were opened, a blast of trumpets and cheering met Celes' ears. She looked about the city in surprise. She hardly recognized it: the hard, grey buildings were covered with flower garlands. The empirial banner, black eagle and crown on scarlet, hung from every lamp post. The citizens, who normally hid in their houses and shops whenever they saw Celes approaching, were crowding along the sides of the main road leading from the gate to the castle. They were dressed festively, and seemed happy, cheering,

"Hurrah! Long live Emperor Gestahl! Long live General Celes!"

Celes' surprise almost overcame her weariness. She was used to praise from the Emperor; he always treated her like a favorite daughter, but she had never been popular among the soldiers, and she hardly ever spoke to the private citizens. Sure, they would always cheer for the soldiers whenever they returned victorious from a particularly important campaign, but individually they tended to avoid the soldiers altogether. Celes had managed, however, to hear whispered rumors about herself. People talked about a "witch," and wondered why even such a beneficent leader as the Emperor would allow such a creature in his army. This was as close as anyone ever dared to come to questioning the Emperor's judgment. Celes wondered at the people's change of heart, but she could not help but be a little pleased, though she told herself that the people's opinion did not matter. The people were weak, their thoughts and desires fleeting as the morning dew. They were like sheep, and they needed a strong shepherd to guide them. Only the Emperor's will mattered. Celes raised her head high and turned her eyes to the empirial castle.

Once the troop reached the castle, Celes' men handed over the prisoners to the guards. Celes had prevented her own men from mistreating the Returners captured in Maranda, but once they were in the clutches of the castle prison guards, they immediately got a taste of what was in store for them. Celes heard the guards taunting them as they were led to the basement dungeon.

"Oh, so sorry!" one said. "But you weren't invited to the banquet. Don't worry, though, we have much better festivities in store for you. Too bad they will have to end in a few days for your execution!"

The cruel laughter rang in Celes ears as she ascended the steps of the castle. She had little time to ponder their fate, however, for she could see the Emperor, flanked by Kefka on his right and Leo on his left, waiting for her at the top with open arms and a benign smile under his long grey beard. When she reached him and knelt at his feet, he pulled her up and embraced her, kissing her on both cheeks, before leading her into the banquet hall. Once they were out of sight of the crowd, Celes and her men were excused to allow them to change out of their battle-worn attire and wash before the meal. She nearly ran to her room and dropped unto her bunk as soon as she had closed the door behind herself. She was confused and more tired than she could ever remember being. The thought of a formal dinner with the Emperor and Kefka and all of the top officers in the military was unbearable. She forced herself to her feet and went to the sink. It took an unusually long time to scrub the dirt off her arms and face. She didn't often bother to clean her nails, but now there was some dark substance under them, and she told herself it would be disrespectful to the Emperor to appear at the banquet he had planned in her honor without cleaning them. That took a long time. She didn't have anything to clean them with except for her knives, and she didn't want to use them, so she just used her nails. Celes told herself it was nothing but dirt or soot under them, but she kept thinking over the attack on Maranda, trying to remember if she had ever gotten blood on her hands. She thought of the governor and the others she had murdered. No, not murdered. They were executions, just executions, the necessary and proper punishment for the crime of treason. But remembering the governor, made Celes think of the eyes. That woman's eyes. Before, they had been pleading, but now, as Celes saw them once again in her mind, they were accusing, asking why. Why did you come here? Why did you kill my husband, the father of my children? Why did you destroy everything I, we, this whole village has ever known and loved? Celes remembered how the woman had fainted, and how all her friends and family had tried to revive her and comfort her children. Those people had no homes because of Celes. What were they doing now? Taking refuge in other towns? The closest residential area besides Vector was 60 miles away. They had no transportation, no extra clothes, no food. Maybe they had managed to save some things from their houses and barns. No, Celes knew that was impossible. Maybe they were already dead, from hypothermia or torn apart by wild beasts. Celes was awoken from her reverie by the clanging of a dinner bell. She looked at the clock. She had already been in her room for ten minutes. She stopped cleaning her nails. She changed into her best clothes, not a dress, but pure white ceremonial armor. As she was reaching for the door handle, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She had been so busy scrubbing earlier, she had not even noticed how her face looked. Somehow, it was not what she expected to see. She must have been imagining that what she had experienced in the past two days, what she had done, would somehow have been imprinted on her face. She could not immediately perceive any difference. She moved closer until her face was a couple inches from the glass. She didn't usually spend much time looking at herself in the mirror. She despised make-up, and the women--and Kefka--who wore it. Most people would consider her beautiful, though they would never say it to her face. The only person who had ever told her she was beautiful was Professor Cid, who cared for her when she was little. She remembered he had gotten her a frilly pink dress for her birthday one year, which even at 5 she had hated, but pretended to like. She learned at a young age to hide her feelings. She had worn the disgusting thing for him, and he had said she was the prettiest little girl he had ever seen. She had never considered herself pretty, simply because she never really thought about it. For once, she studied the face in the mirror. She didn't think she had ever before noticed how odd her skin looked, so pale, it was almost transparent, like a frozen pond. This made her lips look strikingly red. A vein was visible in between her eyes, and the dark circles around her eyes were very noticeable. It was a severe face, with high cheekbones, a strong, determined chin, and a thin, sharp nose. Her hair was pale gold, like the sun on a bitter winter day, giving light but no warmth. But, Celes mainly noticed her eyes. They were pale, piercing blue, like the sky on a frosty morning. She searched them for what she did not know. Did she expect to see the blood-thirsty gaze of a killer? Or the anguish and confusion she had felt for the past day and a half? She gazed at the eyes staring back at her out of the mirror, and she saw...nothing. They were emotionless and cold, cold like everything else about Celes. She turned away. The Emperor was waiting.

When she reached the banquet hall, she saw that everyone else was already at their places, standing. They seemed to have been waiting for her. Celes caught the Emperor's eye. They were kind and twinkling, as he always looked at her, but she looked away and felt a blush rise in her cheeks. She was chagrined for making him and the whole room wait.

"Here she is!" he said. "Everyone, please raise your glasses, to General Celes Chere, ever faithful to the cause of peace and order, Vanquisher of the enemies of the Empire, may this be the first of many triumphant returns."

"To General Chere!" the room echoed.

Emperor Gestahl offered Celes the seat at his right hand, so she too was at the head of the long table. He even waited for her to sit, only then did everyone else recline. The food was served immediately, to Celes' delight. She was afraid she might be expected to make some kind of speech. As soon as she felt that her usual pallor had returned to her cheeks sufficiently, she raised her eyes and looked about the table. Leo was seated to her right and Garrett was next to him. Garrett shot her an amused smirk before she could pretend she hadn't seen him. She looked back at Leo, who also was looking at her, but his smile was much more genuine.

"Congratulations, Celes, er, sorry, I mean General Chere. I can't get used to you being a general. I still remember when you first started training."

He laughed, but in a good-natured way. He did not begrudge a girl half his age for equaling him in rank. It seemed impossible for Leo to ever be envious or resentful toward anyone. Celes smiled for the first time in what felt like a year. Leo went on.

"Garrett here was just telling me about your mission."

"Oh?" Celes looked over at Garrett again, but he avoided her eye. That couldn't be good. What had he been telling Leo?

"Yes. I'm very impressed by his account of your actions. It was not an easy assignment." Leo sighed. He seemed troubled for a moment.

Celes knew Leo well enough to know that he would not have enjoyed her assignment anymore than she had. She wondered what he would have done in her place. Would he have razed Maranda to the ground? She doubted it. She could hardly imagine him executing the town leaders, although he obeyed orders scrupulously, though not unthinkingly. Celes had known him to disagree with the Emperor on more than one occasion, and Leo was not afraid to voice his concerns directly to Gestahl, though he always did so with the utmost respect.

Celes looked at Emperor Gestahl. He was in his sixties, and his hair and long beard were starting to grey, but that only made him more venerable, at least in Celes' eyes. He was tall, and a bit slim. He had dark eyes, a broad forehead, and a somewhat crooked eagle nose. He had several wrinkles. At the moment, his face was creased in amusement. It must have been something Kefka said, for he was seated to the Emperor's left, leaning towards him, almost secretively engaging him in conversation, it seemed to Celes. As Kefka leaned back, he broke into one of his famous laughs. It was high pitched and unrestrained, and it rang loudly, even in the crowded banquet hall. The chatter quieted for a few seconds, as everyone glanced at the head of the table in slight alarm. Everyone had heard the laugh before, but there was no getting used to it. Celes gazed at Kefka. He was dressed very strangely, but this was the norm in his case. His tunic--or blouse--was a very bright red velvet, with huge buttons of solid gold, big, puffy sleeves, and a very wide, stiff lace collar, that stuck straight out from his neck. His breeches were striped orange and black and were rather baggy. His dark boots were tall and clicked loudly on the floor when he walked. His outfit was completed by a huge white feather stuck in the back of his ponytail. His hair was blonde, a bit darker than Celes', and extended a couple inches below his shoulders. As if his outfit were not enough, Kefka wore make-up. He powdered his face until it was deathly pale, and wore red lipstick. He even had red make-up around his eyes. The soldiers laughed at him behind his back, calling him the Emperor's Clown, though in truth he too was a general, in fact, he was the Emperor's top advisor and second-in-command. No one ever dared to mock Kefka to his face or cross him in anyway: he was famous for his short temper. Celes thought he must have a split-personality. He could be laughing and good-natured one minute, and screaming in fury the next. The slightest thing could set him off. Celes remembered the head chef of the empirial castle had once sent up slightly burnt toast for Kefka's breakfast. She didn't know where that chef was now, but he didn't work in the castle anymore. And Kefka knew how to fight. He and Gestahl were the only other people in the Empire, probably the world, who could use magic besides Celes. Celes could beat Kefka in a sword match any day, but she could not rival his magic. Kefka was the kind of person that had no friends, though the Emperor seemed to find him useful. Celes could not imagine why the Emperor tolerated him. Practically everyone was afraid of Kefka, even Celes, slightly, though she hated to admit it. Leo was not afraid of him. Kefka hated Leo; even with his magic, Kefka was barely a match for the great warrior, and he couldn't stand anyone having more power than himself. The two men also did not see eye to eye very often. Leo was a kind man, a man of honor, who fought and killed because it was his duty and because he believed in the cause of the Empire. He took no pleasure in killing and always strove to gain the surrender of his enemies with as little bloodshed as possible. Kefka was...different. He had a callous disregard for loss of life on the battlefield, even the lives of his own men. He was also known to use deceit and treachery with his enemies. The Emperor had once reprimanded Kefka for entering the camp of an enemy by promising them a peaceful negotiation and then ordering the slaughter of everyone in the camp. Celes looked away from Kefka; she couldn't stand looking at him for long, almost as if the sight of him pained her eyes. On Kefka's other side was a girl. She was apparently only a little younger than Celes, but smaller. She was short and quite thin. Her skin was ivory, her lips were thin and red, and her eyes were a brilliant green, with long lashes, and seemed too large for her small face. What was most striking about her was her hair; it was green, almost the same shade as her eyes, and wild. She had a strange circlet on her forehead. It was rather ugly, and seemed to be made out of metal. It was black. After a little while, Celes noticed that the girl was acting rather strangely, too. She was not talking to anyone, but for the most part she just stared straight ahead of her. She ate mechanically, and her expression never changed; her face was a blank, emotionless mask. Celes thought at first that she had never met the strange girl, but the longer she looked at her, the more familiar she seemed. She couldn't think where she could have seen her, though. Celes noticed that Gestahl and Kefka kept glancing at the girl, and it seemed that she was the chief topic of their conversation, though they kept their voices low, so close as she was, Celes could not make out what they were saying. She also noticed that the Emperor seemed very pleased with her; he gave her the same proud, happy smile that he usually reserved for Celes.

Celes' eyes were beginning to close of their own accord by the time the banquet was finally over. The Emperor rose from his seat and addressed his officers.

"Tonight marks a momentous occasion for the Empire. I have a very special announcement to make to Our People. Officers, please gather your platoons in front of the castle. Generals, please join me on the balcony."

With that, the crowd dispersed. Celes noticed Kefka speak briefly to the silent girl before he followed the Emperor. She nodded and then followed behind Kefka, as they ascended the steps to the balcony. Celes wondered who this person was and why she was accorded the same honor as the Emperor's generals. She decided to find out.

"Hello," said Celes, as she fell in step beside the girl. "I don't believe we have met. I am General Celes Chere."

The girl looked at her blankly as if she either hadn't heard Celes or didn't care. She looked at her proffered hand strangely for several moments before placing her hand in Celes'. She didn't take her hand or shake, but allowed Celes to move it up and down a couple times. When Celes pulled away, her hand simply dropped, and the girl resumed looking ahead at Kefka's back. Celes cleared her throat.

"May I ask your name?"

Again the girl looked Celes straight in the eye, but she didn't say anything, and after a few moments Celes looked away angrily. The girl didn't smile, but she didn't seem angry or offended or anything else that might give some account for her silence. She simply looked. Celes decided there was definitely something wrong with this girl. She even wondered if she were human; she acted like some kind of robot or else a person under hypnosis. Her suspicions were increased when she saw Kefka look over his shoulder at the two of them. Celes had never liked Kefka, but there was something especially unpleasant about the smile on his face.

The Emperor's speech began as it usually did. As much as Celes loved the Emperor, her mind wandered and her head began to droop as he talked on and on about present campaigns and future glory, prosperity, and peace for all members of the Empire. Finally, he said something new.

"My people, today is a great day for the Empire. For today marks the return of our beloved General Celes from her victorious mission to Maranda. As I speak to you, nine dangerous terrorists who call themselves Returners, and who found harbor with the people of Maranda, are in prison, awaiting their just punishment. This goes to show that we can never be too careful. My heart was grieved when I learned that the people of Maranda, whom we have long befriended and protected, betrayed us by helping our enemies. I must urge you, my people, once again: be ever vigilant. For who knows? If our allies could betray us so, what next? Will we find traitors even within our own boundaries? Within our own homes? If anyone of you should hear any person speak against the Empire, or in sympathy with the Returners, please, for your own safety, tell your neighborhood patrol officer. Only if we stand united, can we hope to overcome the enemies of peace and order.

"Finally, my people, today you have witnessed the beginning of a new era! You have all heard rumors of the awesome power of our new magitek weapons. These weapons were tested in battle for the first time, during this very Marandan campaign. What you do not know, is that magitek is indeed powered by magic. Yes, magic does indeed still exist in this world. With the power of these weapons, we can at last begin the conquest of the Northern Continent. We stand on the brink of a major breakthrough! In the days to come, we'll witness a total revival of magic! It is our destiny, and ours alone, to take this mystic force and claim what is rightfully ours! With our new-found power, nothing can stand in our way!"

As Emperor Gestahl's speech came to an end, the entire city, which had gathered in front of the castle, erupted into deafening cheers.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Long live Emperor Gestahl!"

Celes cheered along with everyone else, but inside her heart was sinking. The Northern Continent? Was this war ever going to end? If the Empire conquered the Northern Continent, it would have the entire world at its feet.

The cheers were still ringing out, as Gestahl turned back to face his generals.

"Celes, my dear, I would like to hear your report before we retire for the day. And there is something Kefka and I wish to discuss with you. General Leo, you are dismissed."

Celes was beginning to think she would never be able to rest. But she said only, "Yes, my lord."

Gestahl led her down to the conference room, where he and his generals planned their military strategies. Leo gave Celes a nod and a smile by way of farewell, as he turned down the hall to his quarters. Kefka led the silent girl down a hall leading to the rear of the palace. Celes wondered where he was taking her. When they reached the conference room, Celes gave Gestahl her report. She gave it quickly, looking down at the smooth wood of the round table as she did so. When she had finished, she looked up at her Emperor. He looked at her with concern; he could tell that it had not been an easy mission for her. Celes was relieved when Kefka entered the room. Gestahl did not press her for details, but turned to the business at hand.

"Our first campaign in the Northern Continent is one of secrecy," said Gestahl. "Our intel shows that the miners in a small town called Narshe have unearthed a strange creature, frozen in ice. We believe this creature is an esper. We must have it."

Celes had heard about espers, legendary creatures with untold magical abilities. It was only recently that she had heard from the Emperor that they actually existed, and what's more that the Empire was in possession of a few of them. They were being studied in the empirial research facility, behind the castle.

"Why do we need espers, my lord?" said Celes.

Here Gestahl exchanged glances with Kefka. Celes looked between them in confusion. What were they hiding? It wasn't like the Emperor to keep secrets from her. It was almost as if the Emperor were asking Kefka's permission for something. Kefka shook his head almost imperceptibly; Celes narrowed her eyes. Gestahl sighed. It was Kefka who answered.

"We merely want to study the espers. Professor Cid is very curious about them. He studies them so that we can increase our understanding of magic."

Celes looked at the Emperor for confirmation that Kefka spoke the truth. She didn't trust Kefka. But Gestahl's face was downcast, and it was unreadable.

"Would you have me bring you this esper, my lord?" asked Celes.

"No, my dear, I have another mission for you," Gestahl replied. "Two of Kefka's lieutenants will handle that... along with Terra."

"Who is Terra?"

"You saw her today. She is the green-haired girl at the banquet. She is a most remarkable girl. She, too, can use magic, like you, but with one difference: she was born with that ability. There seems to be some connection between espers and her."

"Then what would you have me do?" asked Celes.

Here the Emperor leaned forward and spoke almost in a whisper.

"I have a very special mission in mind for you. But it needs to be kept completely secret. Not even General Leo shall know about it."

Celes glanced at Kefka and then back at Gestahl with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, don't worry about Kefka. This job is his idea. Why don't you explain it to her?" said Gestahl.

"My pleasure," Kefka said with an unpleasant smirk. "No doubt, Celes, you have heard that we have been having increasing trouble with those pesky Returners lately. They have been disrupting our communications, making it difficult for us to keep in contact with our bases, especially those on the Northern Continent. Just last week, they managed to intercept an entire caravan of food and ammunition headed to our base near Doma. The soldiers are missing and the cargo was stolen. Fortunately, we have not yet begun shipping our magitek weapons. If any of those should fall into the hands of our enemies, it would be disastrous.

"The worst thing about the Returners is that they are so slippery. We have no idea who they are, let alone where their base is or the identity of their leaders. But whoever it is seems to know a good deal about the Empire and must also have a far amount of money to be able to fund the kind of operations they have been performing. We need to know who they are. We need to have someone on the INSIDE. That's where you come in."

"Celes, we want you to join the Returners." said Gestahl. "Terra will be departing for Narshe a week from today on a small boat. You and Kefka will leave the day after with a squadron of men. Kefka will ensure that the esper is safely captured. If the sneak attack fails, he will have enough men at his command to take the entire town by force. Once the esper is safely on its way to Vector, Kefka will begin conquest of the northern continent, probably starting with the port city of Nikeah, so we can gain control of transportation. At the same time, I will send Leo to our base near Doma to begin in earnest the siege on that kingdom."

Here Kefka interrupted with one of his laughs. The sound sent shivers down Celes' spine, and she wondered what he found so amusing about that. Gestahl continued.

"Your mission, however, while Kefka is dealing with the esper, will be to remain in Nikeah, alone. We think there may be Returners there, but if you are unable to locate them there, head for South Figaro. If you are able to contact them, you will feed them information. The information will be true, and once they capture another cargo or two of ours (needless to say, unessential cargoes, but large enough to convince them), hopefully they will trust you enough to let you join their ranks. No doubt, they will be thrilled to have such a high-ranking empirial officer as yourself on their side. If you cannot find them, you will need to find a way to attract their attention. We will leave the means up to you, since you proved yourself so capable with your last mission. But let me emphasize that you MUST convince them that you have betrayed the Empire. This mission is vital; consider no means too extreme. Well, I believe that about sums it up. What do you think?"

Celes didn't know what to think. She was dazed. She couldn't believe what the Emperor was asking her to do. How could she ever betray the Empire? Who would ever believe that she would do such a thing? She wondered vaguely what means they expected her to use this time. Was she to burn another town, only this time an Imperial outpost?

"My lord, I..." she found her throat was too dry. She cleared it and began again. "I am honored that you would think of assigning me to such an important mission. But, I don't know... I mean, do you really think I am ready for such an assignment?" That wasn't really what she wanted to say. She wanted to say that she could never carry out such an assignment, that Kefka was a crazy fool for even thinking of such a thing, that she hated the very idea of using deceit as a weapon and above all hated the thought of fighting against her own people for as long as it took to get the information the Emperor needed. But she saw how Gestahl trusted her, how he counted on her, apparently above all his other officers, how he looked at her with pride and confidence in his eyes, and she couldn't say it. What could she say?

"Of course you are ready! You have proved yourself resourceful and capable in every mission I have ever sent you on. And now, I know you can make your own decisions and lead others effectively. I know if anyone can do this, you can. But this is not an order. If you don't want this assignment, I will not force it upon you."

What could she say?

"Your wish is my command, sire."

A week passed, time that should have been pleasant and restful for Celes. But it wasn't. She spent most of her time cloistered in her room. She had never been particularly sociable, but now she could hardly stand the presence of any other human beings. It seemed to Celes that everyone either avoided her as if she frightened them, or congratulated her on the victory at Maranda. She felt that some soldiers that had previously ignored her were now trying to befriend her. She suspected they were hoping to advance their careers by gaining her favor now that it was so obvious to everyone in the Empire that she was a favorite of Gestahl's. When she did venture out of her quarters at mealtimes or to walk about the city she avoided speaking to anyone she met, but she did occasionally overhear some of their conversations. She began hearing rumors. One man, who claimed to have once been inside the research facility, said that the espers were the true source of the power required for magitek weapons. Celes didn't usually give credence to all the rumors floating around Vector, but she wondered about this. The Emperor did seem to be searching for espers with an almost obsessive determination lately. She decided to visit Professor Cid and ask him. He was the Emperor's chief scientist and literally lived in the facility, so if anyone would know, he would.

She turned her steps to the facility which stood at the rear of the castle. She found the entrance blocked by two armed guards. They saluted her.

"Hello, General. What can we do for you?" one said.

"I came to see Professor Cid; excuse me," Celes replied. She tried to go past them, but they blocked her path.

"Sorry, General, but no one is allowed in the research facility anymore," the guard said.

"What?" Celes was shocked. She had not been inside recently. Since it had been used almost exclusively for the production of magitek armor, Cid had been very busy, but she used to come often. She had come here several times to receive the infusions that had given her magical powers and for tests to see how these infusions had affected her. She also used to visit Cid often before he became so busy.

"Well, could you tell Cid I would like to see him, when he gets the time?" she said.

The guard said he would, so Celes grudgingly turned to head back to the castle. She began to think that man was right about the espers. If they really were the source of magitek power, that must mean they were the source of Celes' own magic. She wondered how the espers' power was taken from them, and why the Emperor had allowed Kefka to deceive her. She didn't have much time to ponder this, however, as a soldier came to meet her before she had reached the palace doors.

"General Chere!" said the man, "the Emperor wishes to see you at once. He is waiting in the council chamber."

Celes hastened to meet the Emperor with dread in her heart. This was her last chance to convince him that she was unsuited to this assignment, and she meant to make the most of it. When she reached the chamber and shut the door behind herself, she saw that, once again, she was alone with Gestahl and Kefka.

"Celes, my dear," the Emperor greeted her. "Your ship is leaving at dawn tomorrow. I just wanted to ask if you have any questions about your mission before your departure."

"Yes, my lord. I've been thinking, and I'm not sure how I am going to be able to convince the Returners that I have betrayed the Empire. What reason could I possibly have to do such a thing?"

"Ah, yes, I raised the same objection when Kefka first presented the idea to me. I believe even the Returners know your reputation well enough that they would never dream of trying to buy your loyalty. But Kefka thought you could try a different strategy. One of...oh, what was the term you used?" he asked Kefka.

"Conscientious objection," Kefka supplied. Celes was surprised Kefka was familiar with such a concept, given the fact that he himself seemed to be missing the necessary faculty.

"That's it," Gestahl went on. "You know, Celes, how self-righteous those Returners are. They are utterly convinced that their cause is just. They call the Empire evil. You should have seen those prisoners you brought back from Maranda; they refused to give us any information and died like martyrs. We don't think it will be too difficult for you to convince them that you have 'seen the error of your ways,' as they say. Tell them that you could no longer stand to shed innocent blood, or some such idealistic tripe."

Celes thought about this for a moment. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. She thought she could pull off a story like that.

Celes and Kefka left early the next morning, along with a regiment of 100 men and four magitek armor suits. The only way to get to the Northern Continent was by boat. It would take four days to reach the town of Nikeah. From there, it was a half-day's journey to Narshe, which was on the northern-most part of the continent. The trip was uneventful for the most part. Celes spent most of her time in her cabin, and she avoided Kefka whenever possible. He had a tendency to get seasick, which made his short temper even more dangerous. He also tried to talk to Celes about her mission whenever he saw her, and his advice was not particularly helpful. She was glad to bid him farewell once they disembarked. She rented a room in the local inn. The next day she scouted out the town, observing the behavior of the locals. She found that news of the attack on Maranda had reached them, including the identity of the General who had led the attack. She kept a low profile and spoke to no one at first. Twice she heard the term "witch," but she came to realize that this did not refer to her. Apparently, the people here had observed three empirial soldiers, two men and one green-haired woman, who had stayed in the inn a few days prior to her own arrival, and left without a word. They somehow seemed to have also heard a little about an attack on Narshe, including rumors that the same girl they had seen was some kind of sorceress. The townsfolk seemed to have previously believed that magic was nothing but a fable, and most of them continued to believe so. For two days, Celes searched for any sign of a Returner presence in the town, but she found none. She was just pondering what to do about drawing attention to herself, when she received a message via carrier pigeon. It was from Kefka; he had some unexpected news.

_Terra has been captured by the Returners. We do not have the esper. Figaro has betrayed us. King Edgar is in league with the Returners. Rendezvous with me immediately in South Figaro._

Celes didn't know Terra, so she was not particularly troubled by the news of her capture, nor by the fact that the esper was still not in the hands of the Empire, for she did not understand the purpose of gathering espers. She was surprised by the news of Figaro's betrayal, however. The kingdom of Figaro had been allied to the Empire for as long as she could remember. She wondered if Kefka had done something. He was not a very diplomatic person, especially when he was angry.

As Celes was on route to South Figaro, she came across the regiment of soldiers that had come with Kefka. They were in the cave that passed under the mountain range separating Figaro Castle and South Figaro, within sight of the town, and they were sharpening their weapons. Celes heard the full story from a Sergeant Baxter, who told her that they had gone to Narshe, and intimidated the locals into revealing that they had seen three imperials who, after killing all the guards that got in their way, had entered the mines a few days previously. No one knew what happened to the men, but the green-haired girl had been seen leaving Narshe with one man shortly thereafter. Little seemed to be known of this man, but some thought he was one of the Returners. The guard who had seen him with Terra also said they had left town in the direction of Figaro Castle. That had been enough for Kefka. Once he heard that Terra was in the hands of the Returners, he had gone slightly berserk and seemed to forget all about the esper. He said that she was more dangerous in their hands than all our magitek secrets. Kefka was convinced that the Returners were keeping her at the castle and, after arriving there, had demanded that the king hand her over to the Empire. King Edgar had claimed ignorance of the girl... so in the night, Kefka had set fire to the castle. Some of his men had misgivings about setting fire to the castle of an ally, but it seemed Kefka's suspicions had been correct. Baxter had seen Terra escaping the castle with the king and another man on chocobos. Kefka had left most of the regiment behind, so that he was able to make a sneak attack on the castle, but he had brought two soldiers in magitek armor. The escaping trio had managed to defeat those two as they attempted to block their escape. Furthermore, Kefka had not been able to enact revenge against the people of the castle, for the whole castle had evaded attack. Somehow, Edgar seemed to have been able to create a mechanism that allowed the castle, with all its people, to submerge under the desert sand. How he managed such a feat of engineering and how the people were able to breathe while underground was a mystery, but the soldiers had seen it happen. When Baxter had finished his tale, he told Celes that Kefka was waiting for her in South Figaro in the mayor's mansion.

It only took Celes about an hour to reach South Figaro from the cave. She found the mansion easily and was directed to the second floor. Once there, she was annoyed to see that Colonel Garrett was waiting with Kefka, along with a short, fat man whom she took to be the mayor. He seemed simultaneously happy and rather nervous, fidgeting with a sizable amount of gold on the table in front of him.

"Ah, Celes," Kefka greeted her; he did not rise. "Allow me to introduce you to Mayor Raskin. We have been in contact with him recently, and he has kindly agreed to help us take control of South Figaro with a minimum of trouble on our part."

The Mayor smiled at Celes and gave her a polite little bow. Celes gave him a cold glance before returning her attention to Kefka, who continued.

"He has arranged to have the city gates left unlocked tonight and has sent away almost all of the soldiers to the aid of Figaro Castle. The city is practically already in our hands. Here are your orders." He handed Celes a scroll marked with the Emperor's seal.

"As you can see, you and Garrett are to work hand in hand for this assignment. Other than that, they are the standard orders, eliminate all who draw weapon against us, etc., etc."--Here Mayor Raskin shifted uncomfortably in his seat--"No need to be harsh on the townspeople, however. You don't have to burn the town down, or anything like that. Unfortunately, I must leave as soon as our troops take possession of the city, so I leave it to you and to Garrett here to bring some order to this wretched town and see if you can catch any Returners. This place is rank with them according to what Raskin has told us."

"Where are you going?" Celes asked.

"The Emperor wants me to... assist Leo with the siege on Doma. That has been taking too long, and our wise Emperor has finally decided to let me try my little strategy."

"What's your strategy?" Celes asked, though she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Poison their water supply," Kefka said.

Celes wasn't sure she had heard him correctly. He sounded like it was the most obvious thing in the world to try, and he said it as casually as if he were remarking on a patty-melt he had for lunch, not on a plan that might result in the death of every man, woman, and child in an entire kingdom.

"No," she said, "I don't believe you. The Emperor would never allow you to do such a thing. He is always saying that we are conquering these nations, not to destroy their people, but to help them, to liberate them from the crime and disorder that runs rampant in other nations outside the Empire."

"Oh, please, Celes, don't be so naive! Do you really believe every little thing Gestahl says in those interminable speeches of his? I always thought you had more sense than that. Do you think that you were 'helping' the people of Maranda, when you burnt their town to the ground (well done, by the way)? Gestahl doesn't care about the Marandans! And he doesn't care about the Domans! He cares about one thing, the only thing that every great ruler cares about: power. What is the destruction of a nation if it will bring him that much closer to achieving the ultimate power, power such as you have never dreamed of? When you are going to rule the entire world, you don't shy away from the loss of one small kingdom. Once he has this planet in the palm of his hand, he can rebuild Doma, if he so chooses, 10 times bigger and better than it is now. Ah, power! Is there anything else that matters in this pathetic world of ours?"

"It isn't true. The Emperor wouldn't sacrifice all those lives; he isn't like you!"

"Oh, but he is like me! We're birds of a feather, old Gestahl and I! Why do you think we've spent all those hours in the conference room, without even you or Leo? How do you think I came to be his chief advisor if we didn't see eye to eye? Perhaps you're thinking of that little incident with the military camp from Albrook? How Gestahl reprimanded me for the way I disposed of them? Well, my dear girl, that whole thing was his idea! He was delighted with the outcome! He was just pretending to be surprised and displeased with me; it was all a show! Chiefly to appease Leo, but I see it worked on you, too. Speaking of Leo, the Emperor is not very pleased with him. If he were not so useful on the battlefield, Gestahl would have disposed of him long ago. But believe me, the time will soon come when he doesn't need Leo anymore. And, just a friendly bit of advice: when that time comes, when Gestahl and I have become so powerful that we no longer need anyone else, you'd better watch yourself. I know right now Gestahl treats you like his prize Doberman, but if you take Leo's side of the board, even you might not be left standing when the pieces fall."

"I don't believe you," Celes whispered. She was trembling, and her knees were weak. It took a few moments for her to find her voice. When she did, her cry echoed through the large house. "You're a liar! And I am going to report you to the Emperor. He will stop you before you are half-way to Doma!"

She turned on her heel, and her hand had just touched the door handle, when she stopped. Kefka was chuckling, but she could still here the rustling of paper being brought out.

"Before you report me, you might be interested to see this order. It arrived only this morning for me, from the Emperor."

Celes slowly turned to face Kefka once again. He was showing his teeth in what Celes could only assume was meant to be a broad smile, but his black eyes were so full of malice, that he did not seem at all happy. He was holding an open scroll, stamped with the empirial insignia at the top. She snatched it from him and began scanning the message.

_My Dear Kefka,_

_I hope by this time you have secured the esper, but if not, I want you to leave that matter for the present. You will come back to it, but right now I need you in Doma. Leo is making precious little headway against the Doman Knights. If we don't try your plan, I think we will be there until the Domans run out of food, and who knows how long that could take. I am running out of patience with Leo. Therefore, I have decided that your plan is really the best idea after all. I apologize, I should have let you handle it in the first place. I am sending a shipment of Morchylus, which was recently concocted in our labs. It is an ingenious poison: even when very strongly diluted, it kills almost instantly. I think it should do the trick. Only, make sure you place it in such a way that it will contaminate the drinking water of the entire kingdom. These people have stood against us for too long. The Morchylus should arrive about the same time as yourself, if you leave immediately upon getting this message. Report back to me as soon as Doma is no longer a threat to us. Good luck!_

_--Emperor Gestahl_

Celes shook her head slowly. It couldn't be true! But she knew that it was true. She recognized the Emperor's signature. The room began to swim before her eyes, and she clutched at her chest. Suddenly, the air seemed very close in this room, and she found it hard to breathe. Kefka laughed again. Then he spoke again, this time in a sickening voice, filled with false pity.

"Ohh, have I disillusioned the little soldier girl? Your precious daddy doesn't seem like such a jolly old man anymore, hmm?"

The message from the Emperor fluttered to the floor, as Celes ran from the room. Kefka's cruel, insane laughter followed her, as she stumbled down the stairs. She felt as if the walls of the house were closing in on her; she couldn't breathe, she could barely see where she was going. Finally, she burst through the front doors of the mansion. The sun had just set, and it was a beautiful spring evening. For several minutes, she just stood there on the doorstep, taking in great lungfuls of the clear, cool air. Then she looked about her. South Figaro was a large town, almost as big as Vector, but it was much cleaner and quieter. The houses were smaller, made of wood and stone. Suddenly, she saw the people running, heard them screaming. The town was on fire! But, no, it couldn't be. Not yet. She was just remembering Maranda. She shook her head and covered her eyes, but she could still see the images in her mind. Was South Figaro to suffer the same fate as Maranda? Would _she _be the one to give the order to set the fires? But that was nothing compared to the fate in store for Doma. How could the Emperor allow this? He was not the man she had always believed him to be. All her life she had been fighting for him, and he was nothing but a murderer, a tyrant. She sank to her knees, clutching her head in her hands. And, for the first time in her memory, she wept.

How long she stayed like that, she had no idea. She was woken by a voice.

"Are you alright, miss? Can I help you get home?"

Celes raised her face and saw a man kneeling before her. He was young, probably late-twenties or early-thirties, with tanned skin, dark hair, and kind, blue eyes. He was offering his hand to help her rise. No one ever did that for Celes. She took it. Once she was back on her feet, she sighed, but her mind was clearer now.

"No, thank you. I don't have a home," she added, as if to herself.

The man looked like he was about to protest or offer further assistance, but she just shook her head, gave him a slight smile, and walked away. She left town, headed in the direction of the cave where the soldiers were waiting to invade the town. This town was going to be occupied by the Empire no matter what she did. Her only thought for the moment was that she needed to be the one to lead the attack. That way, she could prevent as far as possible the slaughter of the townspeople. In the morning, she would send a letter to Doma, warning them of the impending attack. After that, she did not know what she would do. She had no long-term plans. All she knew was she had to stop Kefka. She had not given up on the Emperor completely, though. She even had a vague idea that maybe she would go back to Vector and try to talk some sense into him. He couldn't be as bad as Kefka.

She reached the cave, and ordered the officers to gather their troops together at the cave entrance. She informed the men of the plan, emphasizing that this was to be a very easy mission. The gates were going to be left open for them, and there were going to be very few guards.

"Our mission," she said, "is to occupy this town. That is all. For years, these people have been our allies, and if not for the hasty actions of a certain general, they probably still would be. Therefore, the Emperor does not want ANY loss of life. Not even the soldiers. I am confident that you will be able to disarm them without killing them. Is that understood?"

"Yes, General!" was the reply, but she could see some of the men seemed doubtful, and others downright disappointed. She had no time to say more, however, for Garrett arrived at that moment. He seemed a little surprised to see her making a speech to the soldiers.

"General Celes, I didn't realize you were so eager for this mission. I thought perhaps you would leave the attack in my hands."

Celes inwardly shuddered at the thought. "I am a general in the Emperor's army, Colonel. And I am not in the habit of disregarding my orders. Where is Kefka?"

"He's staying at the mayor's mansion. This is not his assignment, and he expressed his confidence in my ability to handle the situation. He says we are to attack at midnight; that is three hours from now."

The moon was high overhead as Celes moved her troops silently across the open plains. She wondered if the mayor had thought to give the night watchman time off, or if South Figaro even kept a night watch. If so, they would be spotted a mile away on a night like this. They reached the west wall of the city, however, without challenge or sound of any kind from the city. They huddled in the shadows, waiting for Kefka's signal. The minutes crawled by. Just when Celes was beginning to think (or hope) that something had gone wrong, a light flashed three times in the top window of the mansion. Celes crept to the gate and lifted the latch. It opened with a creak. She led her men into the city. There was still no sound but for the crunch of boots on cobblestones, and the streets seemed empty. Celes moved forward stealthily, scanning the streets and buildings for any sign of movement. It was not until she reached the town square where she had agreed to meet with Garrett and his men, who had moved in from the east gate, that something happened. Bells started clanging, but they were not chiming the hour. It was an alarm. For some time nothing else happened, but the bells continued to toll. Celes and Garrett gave hasty orders to their men, sending them for cover and stationing them near the doorways of the larger buildings. After maybe ten minutes, the bells stopped and the echoes slowly faded into silence. A voice rang out.

"Intruders from the Empire: we have, at this moment, crossbows aimed and ready to fire. Leave now, if you value your lives."

"Who are these people?" Garrett hissed in Celes' ear. "The mayor said he sent the soldiers away!"

"Maybe we should leave," Celes replied, "we don't have enough men to take a defended city."

"General, I'm surprised at you! I, at least, am not about to run back to the Emperor like a dog with tail between its legs! We have the magitek armor. And besides, they could be bluffing!"

As if in answer to Garrett's suggestion, a sharp twang rang out, and next moment there was an arrow imbedded in the wood above the mayor's front door, two feet above Garrett's head. This unsettled him quite a bit, but he was still hesitant to give in to Celes' suggestion.

"The arrow was shot from that building," said Kefka. Celes nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. She hadn't seen him; he had apparently been standing in the shadows of the mansion every since they entered the city. She looked where he indicated. It was a 3-story bell-tower that stood in the center of town. At the top, it had no roof, only walls, short enough to shoot over. It was an excellent post for archers, but it was the only building of its kind in the city. Kefka continued.

"I'll bet their only archers are stationed there. You already have men placed at the entrance. Why don't you send your men in, Garrett, to take out that threat, while Celes buys you some time with a little peace speech?"

Celes shook her head, but said nothing. It was a good plan, if deceitful and dishonorable, and Celes could not think of a way to argue against it. Even if she could, she doubted it would do any good. She out-ranked Garrett, but not Kefka, and their orders had specifically named Celes AND Garrett as the leaders of this mission. With Kefka on his side, she could not stop Garrett. It looked as if her plans for a bloodless take-over of South Figaro were coming to naught. But she would not be the one to feed these people lies of peace. She crossed her arms and planted her feet like a stubborn mule. Garrett and Kefka exchanged glances.

"Very well, Chere," said Garrett, "if you don't want to win this town for the Emperor, you may leave. But I intend to take it, with or without your cooperation!"

Garrett spoke to one of his sergeants, leaving him with the job of signaling the men at the foot of the bell-tower to take out the archers. He then stepped into the lamp-lit square with arms raised.

"Alright!" he shouted, "I have given my men orders to withdraw. Some of my men have already lost their lives at Figaro Castle; we do not want further bloodshed. I ask that your leader come forth, that we may discuss the terms of peace."

Celes held her breath, her eyes fixed on the soldiers as they slipped in to the bell-tower. There must have been more than archers within, however, for not two minutes had passed before the sound of shouts and the clash of steel against steel were heard coming from within the building. The alarm bells sounded again, and Garrett ducked for cover, just as the command was given to fire the arrows. Fortunately for the Empire, the moon was now shrouded in clouds and there were few clear targets for the archers. The defenders were not, however, content with merely shooting arrows. The city rang with yells and battle cries as men armed with swords and spears and even pitchforks rushed from their houses. Celes watched as the imperials left their hiding places to meet the oncoming threat. In the initial pandemonium of shouting men and whistling arrows, thick in the air, it seemed that the defenders might have a good chance at defeating the small empirial troop. But Celes could see the men clearly; they kept close to the lamps, so that it would be easier for the archers to avoid shooting their allies, and it soon became apparent to her that there were very few of them, probably less than 2 dozen. They were not soldiers, either, from the looks of their gear, probably mercenaries. Suddenly, an ear-splitting blast rent the air. The magitek soldiers had begun firing their cannons. Celes went out to meet them to see if she could prevent them from burning down the entire city.

Suddenly, a stabbing pain like white hot fire shot through the back of her leg. She fell forward with a cry of pain. An arrow had pierced the back of her knee, just above her boot. She knew the cure spell, but she couldn't think of the words; she could barely think at all. Just as she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, she heard Kefka's voice above her,

"Allow me, General."

Her eyes shot open, but before she knew what was happening, Kefka ripped the arrow out of her knee. She screamed and would have fainted, but almost immediately, she felt first a tingling sensation, and then cooling relief as the wound was healed, muscle was re-knit with muscle, skin with skin. She could move it again and, but for some numbness throughout her leg, it was as good as new. She turned on her back, until she could see Kefka. He was smiling in an unpleasant, haughty sort of way, but she was grateful nonetheless.

"Thanks, Kefka," she said.

She got up and looked about the square. Apparently, the arrow that had hit Celes was one of the last, for there were no more in the air. And already it seemed as if the small band of resistance fighters had almost been taken care of. The imperials were surrounding them, and most of them had thrown down their weapons. Some of them were dead, but not as many as the empirial soldiers. At least a dozen of the latter had been killed, most by arrows. There seemed to only be one defender who was still fighting, he was dueling with Garrett. He was a good fighter, but Celes did not hold out much hope for him. Garrett was well-known in the Empire for his abilities with the sword. The only person in the Empire with a better reputation as a swordsman was General Leo. The fight lasted a few minutes before Garrett sent the man's sword flying out of his reach. Even in defeat, the man held his head proudly and made no attempt to escape. Garrett circled him once as if waiting for him to beg for his life, and Celes was able for the first time to get a clear view of the man. She gasped. It was the man who had offered to help her last night. Garrett seemed frustrated by the man's stubborn silence.

"Foolish man! Did you really think you stood a chance against me? Do you know who I am?" Garrett taunted.

"I know enough," the man finally spoke. "I know you are nothing but a dog that follows every order of a tyrant, no matter how many innocents must suffer."

Garrett yelled in rage as he ran his sword through the man's heart.

"No! You murderer!"

All eyes turned in the direction of the scream. Some of the civilians had left the safety of their homes; a small crowd of them was gathered at the edges of the town square. The cry had come from a boy, not more than 10 years old. He rushed forward, but was caught by his mother. Garrett pulled his blade from the man's chest and calmly wiped it clean with a handkerchief before returning it to its sheath. He then started for the mayor's porch. On the way, he passed the boy and paused for a moment to say to his mother, "You'd better keep your brat quiet, lady, if you don't want him to end up like his father."

Garrett paid them no more heed, but Celes tensed as she saw the boy break free from his mother's arms and take up his father's sword. He held it with both hands and swung it at Garrett. The blow might have killed him if he hadn't turned just at the last moment. Instead the sword grazed his side. Garrett cursed and kicked the boy in the face. Two of the soldiers caught the boy by the shoulders as he stumbled backwards and held him. Garrett felt his side gingerly; it was not a serious injury, but painful enough to increase his fury. He drew his sword again and raised it to kill, but the blow never fell. Celes blocked it with her own sword. She pushed Garrett back and stood between him and the boy.

"What do you think you're doing, Chere?!" Garrett was livid. "Get out of my way!"

Celes shook her head. "He's just a boy, Garrett, let him go. That's an order!"

"Oh, but Celes," interrupted Kefka, "aren't you forgetting your orders? The Emperor wants us to dispose of any threats, he made that clear. 'All who draw weapon against the Empire must be eliminated.' Similar orders, I believe, to those you received in Maranda. Now be a good little girl and stand down. Or would you rather I had you arrested for disobeying orders?"

"Threats?" Celes replied. "A ten-year old boy, a threat to the Empire? Well, I don't care if he is, I'm not going to let you kill him, Garrett! Isn't it enough that you killed his father for doing no more than trying to protect his people, his family? How many more must die, before Gestahl is finally satisfied that there are no more threats? I've had enough! I will not fight these battles any longer, just so a blood-thirsty egomaniac can make himself king of the world!"

The soldiers broke out in angry muttering at these words. Kefka smiled briefly, before assuming a grieved expression and clicking his tongue.

"Celes, Celes! How can you say such things about your Emperor? You know better than anyone that he cares for nothing but the good of his people. He is merely trying to bring that good to other nations."

"Stop lying, Kefka! You told me yourself, all Gestahl cares about is power. I was a fool for believing otherwise! No longer! He is my Emperor no more!"

A shocked silence met these words. Kefka's voice sank low, but everyone in the square could hear his words.

"This is treason you speak, Celes. Beware. If you keep on this path you have entered, you make yourself, not only the Emperor's enemy, but mine as well, along with every soldier you see before you."

The entire square seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Celes' response.

"So be it."

Kefka bowed his head, but Celes knew him well enough to see that he was nothing if not pleased by her words.

"Very well," he said, "but I should at least make it a fair fight." He waved his hand in Garrett's direction. A white light shot out and healed the cut in his side. "Colonel Garrett, I hereby strip Celes Chere of her title as general, and name her traitor to the Empire. Place her under arrest."

Garrett grinned. "With pleasure."

Celes barely had time to parry before Garrett aimed a blow to her middle. She backed away, fending off blows of increasing rapidity. She could have ended the fight at once with an ice spell, but something prevented her, perhaps some sense that magic gave her an unfair advantage, an advantage which she was too proud to take. The soldiers had formed into a semi-circle, making a kind of arena formed by the mayor's mansion on one side (where Kefka had returned to observe the contest from the porch) and a body of men on the other. The barrier of men was strangely quiet, though, as if they did not know whom they should be cheering. The pair circled this arena, and for several minutes it seemed that neither had the advantage. Then Garrett feinted a strike to Celes' legs, and as she jumped to avoid the blow, he suddenly swept his sword up, slicing the skin from her left collar bone to her ear. It was not deep enough to be life-threatening, but it drew a considerable amount of blood. After this, the fighting became more intense, as Celes realized she needed to take the offensive if she was going to live through the night. Their blows flashed like lightning in the lamp-lit square. Celes could sense that the older warrior was becoming weary. He swung wide, and she took advantage of the loss of his balance by kicking his feet out from under him. He landed hard on his back, with Celes blade at his throat. She stepped on his wrist, until he dropped his sword.

"I should kill you," she said. "It's only fair after all the innocent people you've killed."

"Celes, please, I was just f-following orders!" Garrett was trembling with fear.

Celes looked at him with disgust. She thought of Maranda, and how it would still be standing today if not for the man groveling before her. She thought of the little girl that she had saved from the fire, and how Garrett would have let her burn if the decision had been up to him. She thought of the way he had smiled when she had frozen the guards at the gate. _This is not a man; this is nothing but a twisted animal, a monster! _she thought, as her blade pressed against his throat, drawing a small trickle of blood. But then she stopped. Garrett had not killed those guards at Maranda; she had, following orders. And when she looked in Garrett's eyes, she saw fear, the same fear that had been frozen on their faces. Maybe he was human, after all; maybe she was the monster. She threw down her sword.

"You don't deserve this, you know," she told him, "but I'm not going to kill you. Now get up!"

Celes offered him her hand and pulled him roughly to his feet. As she did, she heard a dull thud and saw Garrett's eyes widen in pain and shock.

"Celes," was all he said before he fell forward against her. She caught him, and saw the hilt of a knife protruding from his back. She looked up and saw Kefka, still standing on the mayor's porch directly in front of her. He caught her eye and smiled. She looked down at her boots. She always kept a knife in each one, but the hilt in the right boot was empty. Kefka had cured her right knee. She lowered Garrett to the ground; he was dead. She could hear the crowd of soldiers behind her begin to murmur and then to shout.

"She killed him!"

"She stabbed him in the back!"

Celes spun around to face the angry crowd. "It wasn't me!" she tried to say, but her voice was drowned out by a shout behind her.

"Is there no end to her treachery?! Arrest her at once!" It was Kefka.

Celes scooped up her sword and turned to flee, but soldiers who had remained at the gates to prevent the townspeople from escaping blocked her way. Soon, she was surrounded. No one, however, seemed eager to engage her in combat. Summoning her powers, she blasted a beam of ice where the crowd of men seemed the least dense. She knew that against so many the spell would not be lethal, but she was hoping it would make a break in the circle of bodies, and give her a chance to escape. It worked; the men went flying in all directions. She made a leap for the opening. She had not gone more than half a dozen steps outside the circle, however, before Kefka took matters into his own hands. She heard him shout what sounded like a command in a strange tongue, and suddenly she could not move; she was frozen in mid-step, completely paralyzed. A hazy, red glow, through which sight and sound were muffled, surrounded her. She could see Kefka approaching her as if through a scarlet fog. She heard him say in a grieved tone:

"Why, Celes? How could you betray us? What will the Emperor say?" Then he came closer and whispered in her ear, "You were doing well, I just thought the Returners might need a little something extra to convince them."

As she was being carried away to a dungeon, the last thing Celes saw before she was enveloped in darkness was Kefka's face. He was grinning broadly, his normally pale face glowing red, as if he were surrounded by flames. Celes would never forget that smile; it would haunt her to the end of her days.

*** 

Celes was once again face to face with Kefka, and once again he had won. Celes was bringing him the magicite shards that would make him even more powerful, and he finally had the leaders of the Returners in his hands. They would pay dearly for all the inconvenience they had caused him. Kefka's pride had still not recovered from his last encounter with these Returners. This time he brought more powerful back-up. He clapped his hands, and in came a trio of soldiers in magitek armor. These were not the old magitek suits that the Returners had faced before. These were larger, with more firepower. And they were fast. They raced at Locke, Edgar, and Cyan, pinning them against the wall with metal arms before they could make a move. Kefka knew that, this time, they would not get away. Celes knew it, too. She decided to take matters into her own hands.

She raised both arms, and there was a blinding flash of white light. After it was over, she was gone, along with Kefka and the magitek soldiers. The magicite shards lay on the floor where Celes had stood. Her voice echoed in the air, even as her magic was sending her away.

"Locke, let me protect you, for once. Maybe now, now you'll believe me."


End file.
